Rejected by the Prince, Chosen by the Lycan King

Juliet POV The darkness didn't hold me for long. I woke to the agonizing throb of my shredded back and the damp, freezing chill of my dilapidated bedroom. Before I could even open my eyes, the heavy wooden door banged open. Two burly enforcers tossed a limp, bloodied figure onto the hard floorboards like a sack of garbage. Dove, my wolfless maid. She scrambled across the floor, sobbing as she gathered the frail woman into her arms. Her round face already bruised and swollen from a previous beating. I forced my eyes open. It was Estelle. My mother. Her beautiful, blind eyes were vacant, and her face was a canvas of fresh, brutal bruises. "What happened?" I rasped, my throat raw. "She felt you dying," Dove cried, her tears dropping onto Estelle's blood-matted hair. "She crawled to Elder Edwina's room to beg for your life. But the Elder... she said a broken Luna was useless. She ordered the guards to beat her in the Pack's dark room." A cold, lethal calm washed over me. The modern operative inside me fully locked into this broken body. "Look at the pathetic blind fool," a sickeningly sweet voice sneered from the doorway. Carmen Gomez stepped into the room, her cheap, overpowering perfume failing to mask her low-born scent. She looked down at my half-dead mother with absolute triumph. "This is what happens when you forget your place. Tomorrow, you will get in that car to Prince Bryce, or next time, they won't stop hitting her until she stops breathing." I didn't scream. I didn't cry. I moved. Ignoring the tearing of my own flesh, I shot up from the bed. Before Carmen could even register my movement, I swung my arm and delivered a vicious, bone-rattling slap across her delicate face. *Crack.* Carmen stumbled back, gasping in shock. "You little bitch!" she shrieked, her eyes flashing gold as she tried to summon her high-ranking aura to call the Warriors. But I was faster. I reached over my shoulder, dug my fingers directly into my own raw, bleeding wound, and ripped out a jagged, blood-soaked Silver barb left behind by the whip. I lunged, slamming Carmen against the rotting wall, and pressed the lethal, burning Silver directly against her carotid artery. Carmen froze. The scent of her fear spiked instantly. Her weak Inner Wolf whimpered at the proximity of the deadly metal. "Call a Pack Doctor," I whispered, my voice devoid of any human emotion. "Now." "You're insane," she choked out, wincing as the Silver seared her skin. "If you kill me, you die, and Charlize—" "Will have to marry the crippled, sadistic Prince Bryce," I finished for her, pressing the barb a millimeter deeper. "Because I won't be there to take her place. Call. The. Doctor." Carmen swallowed hard, her eyes wide with terror. She knew I wasn't bluffing. To save her precious daughter's future, she had to swallow her pride. "Fetch the doctor!" she screamed at the guards in the hallway before I shoved her toward the door. She scrambled away like a frightened rat. Hours later, after the Pack Doctor had reluctantly treated Estelle and left, the heavy door creaked open again. This time, it was Alpha Harold. He didn't look at my bandaged mother or my bleeding back. He simply walked to the small, rickety table and dropped a thick parchment sealed with the Alpha's crest. "A Pack Decree," Harold said coldly, his Alpha aura pressing down on the room. "It states that your mother, the former Luna, was caught mating with a filthy Rogue. The penalty is death." Estelle let out a broken sob from the bed, her blind eyes wide with betrayal. "If you are not in that transport tomorrow morning," Harold continued, his voice devoid of any paternal warmth, "I will read this to the entire Pack. She will be executed, and her name will be cursed for generations. Make your choice, Juliet." He turned and walked out, leaving the threat hanging in the freezing air. Estelle blindly reached out, her trembling hands searching for the table. "Give it to me, Juliet," she wept. "Let me tear it. I won't let him use me to ruin your life." I stepped forward and gently caught her hand. With my other hand, I picked up the forged decree, feeling the heavy wax seal. I carefully folded it and tucked it into the pocket of my torn dress. "No, Mom," I said softly, my eyes fixed on the door Harold had just walked through. "We aren't destroying this. Tomorrow morning, in front of the entire Pack and the Royal escorts, this piece of paper is going to be the blade that cuts his throat."